Dark Flame
by Mirnava
Summary: The knights and Merlin are captured while on a hunting trip... again. But what could the culprit want this time? (I read Feste the Fool's last submission to DeaththeKidKat's Whump! wars, and got the idea to expand it. I got permission first... Please read; it's better than it sounds.) NO slash, post-reveal, and whump, obviously.
1. Bandits? Again?

**Okay, my first Merlin fic. Here goes!**

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_Bandits? Again? REALLY?_ Merlin thought, staring at each of the men before him, frozen mid-charge. _They couldn't think of anything more original?_ He sighed. Sensing danger, Merlin had thrown a time-stop over the whole darkened camp, pausing bandit and knight alike in their moments of chaos. He rolled his eyes. _I TOLD you, Arthur. I really did. I said a hunting trip wasn't a good idea right now. But did you listen? No! Of course not! You had to be your usual clotpole self and drag us all along, didn't you? And NOW look at what's happening! I mean, really. You could listen to me once in a while._ Merlin continued to grumble to himself as he walked carelessly through the rows of bandits, knocking this one over, sending a branch to smack that one in the face but stopping it millimeters away, positioning a boulder an inch above this other's head. Proceeding to thus set traps for all of the intruders, Merlin made his way over to stand next to Arthur, ready to examine his handiwork. Careful to stand out of range of the King's sword, he crossed his arms and allowed time to resume with a golden flash of his eyes.

What met the knights' eyes was utter confusion. Upon drawing their swords, they paused, looking at the foes who had seemed so orderly moments ago. They were seemingly trampling themselves; rocks flew, branches _thwapped_, men swung at their comrades. Immediately, confusion swept through the ranks, urging them to hightail it back into the wood from which they came. Merlin chuckled, causing Arthur to whip his head around. _Wasn't he just sitting beside the fire? _Arthur wondered.

Merlin answered the silent question. He shrugged nonchalantly, "Time-stop." Realization hit Arthur. Once again, he had completely forgotten about Merlin's magic. It was just so… strange.

Across the camp, Gwaine whooped. "Oh, yeah! Nice one, Merlin! Now _that_ was entertainment!" Merlin grinned tiredly in reply. Gwaine noticed immediately. "You look beat, mate. How long was time stopped?"

Merlin shot over to him, "You know how little sense you made, right?" Gwaine thought about what he had said, then nodded, a wide grin splitting his face. "To answer your question, though,… long enough for me to booby-trap each man by hand! And no, it was not one of the easiest things to do, but I'm fine," he said quickly, cutting off the predictable next question. He knew they all cared for him, but he knew his limits better than they did. He had been born with magic. Still, it was already late, and he had to admit that holding that difficult of a spell had taken a bit out of him. He was tired. Arthur picked up on this, too. Instead of pestering Merlin about it, though, he decided it would be easier to get Merlin to rest if they all did.

"Alright, everyone. We have to be moving at dawn. Yes, Gwaine, dawn," he said, rolling his eyes. Gwaine mocked him. "We should get some rest," he stared pointedly at Merlin who, like a little child, stuck his tongue out at Arthur. Arthur let it slide -mostly- and laid down on his bedroll with a sigh, shaking his head at his friend. Merlin did likewise, as did Gwaine, Elyan, and Leon, leaving Percival to stand guard.

-M-

Merlin had fallen asleep as soon as he laid down, leading the rest of the company to think that he was more tired than he had originally revealed to them. But this was not new; anyone who knew Merlin would know that he never told anyone he was not feeling well unless he was in serious danger, and even then he would play it down. _I'm fine_, he would say. This led Arthur and the knights into a hushed conversation about Merlin's annoying habits before drifting off themselves, still completely oblivious to the black-clad man lurking in the shadows.

-M-

Percival had expected another mind-numbing night on watch, but that expectation was quickly dashed as he felt an invisible icy blanket press against him from all sides, immobilizing him. His eyes widened and he was about to call to the others as the cold raced up his chest, reaching his mouth before he could utter a sound. He struggled against his invisible bonds, but to no avail. Suddenly, a man crept into the camp, silent as a panther on bare feet. His hooded black cloak was pulled tight against the night's slight chill, making his feet the only part that identified him as human. He padded toward the fire, stopping a couple of feet away to sharply turn to look at Percival. As he waved his hand in front of his body and muttered something under his breath, Percival felt his eyes grow heavy. The man swiftly disregarded Percival to turn back to the figure sleeping on the ground closest to him. He crouched down toward the man, and with the hand previously hidden in his cloak, covered Merlin's mouth and nose with a ragged, once-white cloth. Then Percival tumbled into nothingness.

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**What do you think? Please let me know… even if it's bad. ;)**


	2. Imprisoned

Okay, so, here's the next chapter. :) I know, I know! I haven't uploaded for almost a month. I'm sorry. But between summer stuff, becoming obsessed with Lord of the Rings (thank you, Seren Lyall...), and my brain not being able to overcome the 3,000 ton neon pink writer's block in my way, this is actually pretty good for me. :) Plus, this is my first story that's not a one-shot or a drabble, so please bear with me!

Okay, so you probably want to read the story now, huh? Here you go! (;

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Merlin was the first to wake, as was usual on the dollophead's stupid hunts. He brought his hands stiffly to his face, rubbing the sleep from his eyes. He sighed. _I suppose I'd better get up_, he thought. _Arthur's going to be grumpy if he has to wait before moving out_. Grudgingly, he opened his eyes, but instead of the brightening starry sky above him, there was a ceiling made of chipped and crumbling bricks. But he had to squint to make out that much. There was not much light here. _If I only knew where here is… then I might be able to find a way out – wait. Where's Arthur?_ He shot upright, but could not see the walls that had to be there to keep the ceiling from falling. Neither could he see anything on the ground near him. All he knew was that he was no longer on the ground, but on straw-covered stone, and that he was probably in a dungeon of some sort. He rolled his eyes. _First the bandits, now this. Whatever or whoever 'this' is_. He squinted through the darkness, hoping to see anything at all that would tell him anything. He hated feeling so… so… _helpless_. He wondered what would happen if he lit the space up with magic. He quickly disregarded that idea; if their captor was watching him when he did, they would obviously then know about his magic. He preferred to keep that to himself in case he needed a secret weapon later. He huffed, wondering if anyone was around, listening for movement or voices. He decided he did not care. _Better to know…_ "Arthur?"

No reply.

"Gwaine?"

Nothing.

"Elyan?... Leon?... Percival?"

Silence. Merlin, discouraged, plopped his face into his hands. _Okay. Think. They're not here, – I hope – so that either means that they are still at the camp, or they ARE here and we're just separated. Or… no. They aren't dead. They can't be. So what do I-? _ A groan from in front of him caused him to look up rapidly. How far, though? He could not see the ground at all. He glanced at the ceiling again briefly. _Whatever light there is only covers a little bit of the ceiling… _he sighed to himself. He brought his thoughts back to the person in front of him. Tentatively, he stretched out his hands, feeling the ground. He raised himself onto his knees, inching forward toward the earlier sound.

There! He felt something. _A foot? Whose?_ He wondered. Hopefully, it was one of the knights. Another groan, and the foot Merlin was clinging to twitched. Then, a groggy voice said, "Who… got m'foot?"

Merlin could barely contain a giddy laugh. Gwaine! Reaching out to take him by the shoulders and leading him into a sitting position, Merlin replied. "It's only me, Gwaine, Merlin. Are you okay?"

"Oh. Uh, yeah. Where are we?"

"Wish I knew. Not outside, and definitely not where we were." Gwaine mumbled something. "What?"

"I said, 'darned man.'"

Merlin perked up at this. "What man? Do you know what happened?"

"Well, I can't be sure it was a man… coulda been a woman. I don't know. But to be easy, let's say it was a man."

Merlin nodded and rolled his eyes, although unseen. _Come on, Gwaine. Get on with it. _

"This man came into our camp, I guess, but I was asleep. Percy was on watch, as you know. Well, I got this funny feeling that woke me up, so I rolled over to talk to him when I noticed that he was unconscious and there was a strange man. He had a funny outfit on; a black cloak, but no shoes. He seemed to have done something to Percy, but what, I haven't the foggiest. But when I saw him… he…"

"What? He what?" Merlin asked, perplexed that Gwaine would not continue. "Come on, Gwaine."

Suddenly, Gwaine shifted the topic. "How do you feel, Merlin?"

Merlin was caught off-guard. "What? I'm fine."

"You always say that."

"No, I don't."

"Yeah, ya do."

"No-"

"Just answer the question – truthfully."

"I did. I'm fine. Really. I feel absolutely normal." Even without seeing him, Merlin could feel the skeptical look on his friend's face. He rolled his eyes. "Really. I'm not lying. Not even a headache, which is strange, when you think about it; you would've thought I'd have woken up or something, being moved to… wherever we are."

Merlin imagined Gwaine shaking his head, "When the bandits attacked, with the amount of time you maintained your- oof! What was _that_ for?"

Merlin had not meant to elbow him so hard, and replied guiltily, "Sorry, Gwaine, but it's better _not_ to say some things when you don't know who's listening, right?"

Gwaine caught on. "Right. What I meant was that you were pretty tired. I probably coulda gotten you halfway back to Camelot before you knew what was happening." He laughed.

Merlin did not join him. He knew there was something the knight was not telling him. "Maybe. But you still haven't answered my question. _What was the man doing_?"

Still, Gwaine hesitated. He fidgeted, sweeping his hand back and forth over the straw that littered the ground. Finally, he answered, "He was holding some sort of cloth to your face."

Merlin could not help it; his hands raced to his face as a feeling of dread overtook him. Of course, there was nothing there. "Do you know what it was?" he asked, his voice barely a whisper. The vision of Gwaine shaking his head forlornly and shrugging flashed through his mind as his friend answered.

"No."

A sigh from next to them captured their attention, causing both men to jump. Percival's voice spoke. "Me, neither. And I watched him do it, but couldn't do anything about it."

"Why not?" Merlin ventured, making sure there was no blame in his voice.

"That man's a sorcerer. He captured me with some sort of immobilization thingy, and used another spell to knock me out. I saw him put the rag to your mouth, but I couldn't move, and I couldn't fight the spell any longer. The next thing I remember is being here, waking up to you two talking." Merlin patted Percival's arm consolingly.

"There was nothing you could have done, him being a sorcerer," he said. "Plus, whatever it was didn't seem to have an effect, unless it was to simply make me stay asleep. It's not your fault. But… what happened to you?" he asked, turning back to Gwaine.

"I tried to stop him. I got up and yelled, waking everyone but you and Percy here, but before we could do anything, we all got knocked out by a hit to the head. I thought it might have been his henchmen, but it makes more sense now that I know he's got magic; I didn't see a single person other than him. The whole time, though, he wouldn't move the rag. Wanted to make sure you got enough, I guess."

Merlin fell silent, thoughts speeding a mile a minute. _If that's true, what did that stuff do? _His mind immediately went to his magic and he reached for it, but it was still there, strong as ever. _Well, if it's not my magic, maybe he really did want to make sure I didn't wake up. But couldn't he have just knocked me out too, like he did for the rest of them? I'm not even sure if he knows I HAVE magic._ He pulled his knees to his chest and rested his chin on top._ So why take a particular interest in me? What does he want with me? And why are Gwaine and Percival in here too? I haven't even seen him… I don't know if I did anything to hurt him._ He sighed. _If I only knew where Arthur and the rest of them are. Then maybe we could get out of here. _Directing the question at both knights, he asked, "Do you know if anyone else is here, or is it just us?"

Percival mirrored Merlin's sigh before answering, "I don't know. I haven't heard anyone else, but that doesn't mean anything. They could still not be awake."

Just then, a groggy, "I'm here," floated their way through the darkness, followed by a, "Me too," and, a few seconds later, a, "Where _is_ here?" Merlin's next breath came easier, under the circumstances. They were all safe. Well, safe being a relative term.

Gwaine answered. "We don't know. To be honest, you all know just about as much as we do. It's been dark the whole time, and nobody's been in here, sooo…"

"Merlin," Arthur asked, "why haven't you tried to at least light this place up and look for a way out?" There was an uncomfortable silence as Merlin tried to find a way to answer without giving away the fact that he had magic to any possible listening ears. "Merlin?"

"Um, well, I couldn't find any flint, so it was kinda hard to start a fire…"

"Merlin. How dense can you be? You know I meant-"

"Sire!" Gwaine jumped in. They could all imagine Arthur with an annoyed look on his face.

"What?" The annoyance was indeed there, clear in his voice.

"Um, well, Sire, some things are better left-" Gwaine was himself cut off as the door to their prison groaned open – not two feet behind him.

"I see you are all awake, finally," the bone-chilling voice mock-chided. Percival could not suppress a shudder. That voice… the voice in the camp… there was no mistaking it.

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So, what do you think? PLEASELEASEPLEASEPLEASEPLEASE review! Was this as good as the last chapter? Better? Worse? What do you think will happen next? Why am I asking so many questions? (I don't really know...) Still, PLEASE review! :)

'Till next time!

~Mirnava~


	3. Monologue? Nooo

Hey all! I am SO sorry that I have not updated sooner! My plot squirrel (a bunny was too clichéd...) had run away to Middle Earth and hidden among the foliage there... Apparently it found Middle Earth more interesting than Camelot for a while, but he has decided to come back to Camelot for a while. I'm sorry that this chapter is so short! As I said, my plot squirrel ran away, so he wasn't terribly helpful when he came back. Fortunately, I have a bit of the next chapter written already! ...Hopefully he won't run away any time soon... at least until after chapter 4 is up!

Okay, enough about my badly behaved squirrel... Enjoy chapter four!

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Merlin spun around to face the door. The silhouette outlined in the doorway stood in robes that swept the floor, a hood still hiding his head. Firelight flooded into the dank prison from what Merlin assumed were torches lining the hallway, illuminating the putrid green crystal nestled into the top of a swirling staff grasped in his hand. He remained perfectly still as he stood studying them. Six faces stared back, their expressions ranging from confusion to fright to annoyance to anger, but each prisoner's eyes were squinted as they tried to adjust to the sudden light.

Thus they remained until the knights began to wonder if this man was a man at all, or if he was, rather, a statue. Then he spoke, making them all jump from the suddenness and harshness of his words.

"Arthur. Merlin. Elyan. Leon. Percival. Gwaine," he scolded, waiting a heartbeat between each. Shaking his head slowly, he made a _tsk-tsk_ sound.

"What do you want?" Arthur demanded. The man abruptly stopped shaking his head, seemingly surprised at the outburst. He paused, but when he spoke next, a cruel smile was evident in his voice.

"Why, my _dear king_," he spat, "You really think that you can make me tell you my plan? I really don't like monologuing."

Arthur was speechless. He had no idea what to respond to that! He had never heard of a captor who did not want to monologue to his prisoners! As he opened his mouth to try another approach, he was stopped as, within the staff's crystal, a misty red ribbon began to swirl. Slowly it began, picking up speed and width as it snaked around the interior. Soon, it was so wide that not a speck of green was seen, and so deep that it looked as though it had been filled with blood. Yet it was still illuminated from deep in its center. A yellow spark appeared, pulsing, in its depths. An ominous flashing accompanied, blinding the still-sensitive prisoners' eyes.

The sorcerer's voice boomed. "You will remain silent unless I demand you speak!"

Arthur, of course, tried to speak immediately, but, no matter how hard he tried, could not utter a sound. His mouth moved, but nothing audible came forth. His face showed the utter shock flowing through his mind. The sorcerer cackled. "Not so high and mighty now, are we, _your highness_?" Maniacal laughter –bordering on insane, Merlin thought– continued as the sorcerer left.

But before he could leave entirely, Merlin could hold back no longer. Had he ever done anything to this man? Abandoning caution, he said, "Wait! Who are you?"

The sorcerer turned back sharply. "My name… is Denethor. Consider yourself lucky that I do not punish you for your insolence as I did your king." He spun on his heel before marching out of the dungeon, slamming the door. The echo reverberated throughout the small room, enveloped once again in total darkness.

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I know... another cliffie. I'm sorry! But that's the only kind that come naturally... (and keep you reading...;) ) As I said above, I have chapter four begun, so HOPEFULLY, I'll get that up for you soon. :) Thank you to all of the wonderous readers that reviewed; those reviews kept me writing! :D

And yes, for any of you who might have caught it, I did take the name "Denethor" from J.R.R. Tolkien's Lord of the Rings. *shrugs* I needed a name, and that one fit. Thanks and all credit to Mr. Tolkien!

Please review! I live for them! :D


	4. Getting to be a Cycle

Okay, okay. I'm sorry! I know; I said I'd post chapter four a while ago. But what can I say? Life had other ideas. Not to mention my plot squirrel seems to have taken a liking to scampering off at the most inopportune times... Anyway. Please enjoy chapter four!

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"Arthur?" Merlin asked tentatively. No response but a shuffling sound in front of him.

_Well, this could prove problematic_, he thought. Gwaine felt it necessary to state this out loud.

"This isn't good." There was a smacking sound, followed by Gwaine's surprised yelp. "Well, it isn't!" He protested lamely.

"There is no way of communicating with Arthur this way… not without seeing him, anyway. You _can_ hear us, My Lord, right?" Elyan asked.

"Well, obviously," Gwaine grumbled. "He was aware enough to hit me on the head!"

There were sounds of someone shifting to Merlin's left before Leon's voice tentatively asked, "Merlin… do you… do you think it would be beneficial if you… if you… So we could talk with the King…." Merlin smiled faintly. Leon still was not used to his magic.

"Maybe. I don't think Denethor is watching us, but I can't be sure. I could give it a try…" Immersing himself in the magic inside him, he chanted the words that automatically came to his tongue. A dim light sparked to life as a glowing blue orb -a white ribbon winding within- hung suspended in midair in the center of the group.

_It's so ethereal_, Leon thought as he stared at each of his companions in turn. All were staring at the orb, staining their eyes blue instead of their natural colors.

Merlin looked at his friends, meeting Leon's disbelieving gaze. _Even after all these years, now that he knows I have magic,-for half a year now- it's like I don't even know him_. He shrugged and gave Leon a lopsided grin. By this time, everyone had stopped looking at the orb and was mentally checking that everyone was accounted for. Everyone but Arthur, that was. He still stared at the unnatural light, reliving his journey to retrieve the Morteous flower and the help sent him in the face of certain death in the form of the orb floating in front of him.

"Arthur?" At Merlin's voice, Arthur's eyes lost their slightly glazed look and focused. He glanced at each man in turn, then set his questioning glance on the warlock. Merlin spoke what they were all thinking. "We need to get out of here." Nods from everyone answered him. "Does anyone have any ideas?" Nobody responded. Merlin rolled his eyes, walking over to the door. It was wood, Merlin realized with a start. _Just wood_. The walls surrounding it, however, were stone, albeit covered with fungus and slime.

He could easily let them out. But what if they were caught?

Gwaine came up to him. "Can you break down the door?"

Elyan spoke up, also making his way over. "But there might be guards outside."

"Worth a try."

"Not necessarily."

"We need to try."

"We have no weapons!"

"Merlin does!"

"I said _we_ don't! And I don't feel like making Merlin do it all!"

Percival cleared his throat. They all turned toward him. He had been watching Arthur watch the two knights argue, and he felt that he knew what the king thought. "We do have to try," Percival said slowly, watching Arthur to make sure he was correct, "but we have to be extremely careful, since we have no swords. Hand-to-hand," he continued on his own, "might work. As long as we're careful. We are knights of Camelot, after all. We have not been in here long enough to start weakening, and I, for one, do not want to wait that long before attempting to escape and risk never getting out."

Nods of approval came from his companions.

Without warning, their light flickered, then came back, but weaker. They all started, then looked worriedly at Merlin. Merlin, for his part, looked horrified and confused, his mouth slightly open and his eyes wide.

Leon was the first to speak up. "Merlin? Are you okay? What happened?"

Merlin started shaking his head, his eyes wider, if possible. "I… I… I don't know," he said hesitatingly. "My… it's… fading. Going out of reach. I- no!" He suddenly clasped his head, falling to his knees, trembling. "It's… it's…" he broke off, unable to finish his thought.

Elyan broke in. "Merlin, put out the light!" Merlin did so. "…Any better?" Elyan asked.

A broken, dejected voice from where they all knew Merlin knelt; "It… stopped fading, but it's not coming back. I don't know what's going on. This has never… never happened before. I don't know what to do." He felt as though a giant vacuum had opened inside of him as the light flickered, a black hole that sucked his magic from him. When he had ended the spell, the vacuum disappeared along with the light. But his magic had not returned. He had some left; he was unsure how much. He was deathly afraid that using any more would make him lose it all. And if he lost all of his magic, he would die. Metaphorically and literally; magic was that much a part of him. But it was not just a part of him; it _was_ him.

A sinister red light appeared in their midst, in the same place Merlin's clear blue one had been. The door swung inward again, but this time, the captives were able to see. A man entered, tall and lean, his eyes sunken into his face above a long curved nose. His eyebrows were bushy, matching in color the dark brown unkempt and dirty hair that adorned his head. In his left hand he grasped the same staff they had all seen before, but his hand -along with the rest of him- was clad completely in black, though he had removed his cloak. Giving his already malign face an eerie glow, the crystal glared. The swirling pattern matched the one floating through the new light, leaving no room for doubt that the new source was of his making.

"So," he sneered, "I was right. You _do_ have magic. I did suppose, after all; why else would anyone want to keep a bunch of high-and-mighty knights and a good-for-nothing-servant?"

Gwaine spoke up. "So why _did_ you?"

Denethor –for indeed, it was he– huffed at the question. "I have my reasons," he growled.

"And what does making Arthur unable to speak have to do with anything?"

"To be perfectly honest, nothing. It amused me," he replied with a sneer. "But I suppose I _cooould_ remove the spell…." He seemed to think about it, then spun on his heel to face Arthur. "But it _is_ so entertaining."

Denethor flicked his head back toward Merlin.

"But why didn't _you_ try to remove the spell, I wonder? Why would you not want to help your _precious king_?" Denethor asked with mock sincerity. "As a matter of fact, why don't you do anything right now? The door is open, after all. And I am not the most powerful of sorcerers, _Merlin Emrys_."

Immediately, warning bells started ringing in the warlock's mind. He knew already? All of his secrecy had been in vain. They could have escaped at any time. But, wait. If he had already known, then he probably would have set traps for them…..And was that _goading_? Was Denethor really goading him? From his experience, Merlin knew that this could only mean that his opponent either knew something he did not, or at least he _thought_ he did. The best option was to hopefully knock him off guard….

"Then why had you not said this before?" Merlin retorted with a suspicious glare, one eyebrow arched. If he had been able to see himself, he would have laughed at how much he resembled Gaius in that moment.

Denethor said nothing in reply, throwing a smugly victorious grin at the group. Spinning on his heel –again– he swept out of the cell, dramatically extinguishing his werelight at the precise moment the _boom_ of the door reverberated.

-M-

"Okay. I officially do NOT like that guy," Gwaine complained. "He doesn't even make any SENSE! Ooh, I think I'm being all mysterious by not telling you what's going on! Ooh, you don't know what's going to happen! Yeah? Well, I'm shaking in my boots. And I swear. He's going to get a neck cramp, or a headache, or something. Moving that jerkily all of the time really has to put a strain on him… Ya know what I think? I think that he doesn't _know_ why he's got us in here. I think that he's kidnapped us just because his buddies already have. Or…or his buddies dared him to do it! I dunno. But this is just getting plain _annoying! Ouch!_"

"Thank you, Sire," Elyan sighed. Arthur snorted in reply.

"This is getting to be a cycle…" Gwaine mumbled under his breath.

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Ooh! The angst is building!

Okay, self-confidence issue time; I don't honestly know if this chapter made as much sense as I tried to make it. Please tell me what you think!


	5. Chapter 5

So sorry I haven't uploaded lately! I really am; I feel guilty about that. I honestly don't know why my brain shut down the way it did, but for the longest time, I just simply could not write. Anyway, I finally finished this chapter. Yay! Personally, I think the middle of it is somewhat weak, but my plot squirrel really scared me by threatening to run away halfway through writing this. OH, and just to make everything clear, I still have NOT seen season 5, so this is all still from my imagination as to what post-reveal is like. (My friend hinted to me that I should say that; as I said, I have not seen season 5 yet. It premiered tonight.) And one other thing; I switch point-of-view halfway through this chapter, so when you see "-Arthur-", that means I'm switching to his PoV. That's probably going to continue for the rest of the fic if I switch back and forth any more (I haven't decided yet).

As always, enjoy!

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Merlin could not do nothing. It was up to him to get his friends and himself out of this. But how? They had already figured out that there was probably something out there, albeit guards or some other trap that Denethor's twisted, sadistic mind came up with. It could just be Denethor's own ego, but Merlin highly doubted that. He knew with whom he was dealing; Merlin Emrys, the most powerful warlock to ever live. But somehow, Merlin wasn't the most powerful anymore. In fact, he feared for his magic. He feared for its very existence within him. And so he remained kneeling on the ground, resigned to keep thinking until a plan – a plausible plan – presented itself to him.

There was no way of talking to Arthur now…. Talking TO him, sure, but talking WITH him? Not without light or magic – the two things that Merlin could have supplied fifteen minutes ago, but no longer. _Why didn't you take the spell off of Arthur? What made you so stupid to not try that first?_ He silently berated himself, guilt about the king's current condition pressing in on him. Wait! Merlin suddenly looked up, trying subconsciously to pierce the darkness once again. "Who's next to Arthur?" he demanded.

Leon spoke up, "I am. Why?"

"Can he whisper?"

"What?"

"Can Arthur whisper? I mean, Arthur, can you whisper? Denethor might have taken away your voice, but you don't need your voice to whisper; it's just air! Maybe you can speak to us that way?" Merlin was hoping feverishly now.

"Merlin," Leon answered after a few seconds, "he can't. The only reason I know he heard you, and is still next to me, for that matter, is through touch. He can still breathe, but he can't speak in any way at all."

Merlin groaned, running a hand through his hair exasperatedly. His thoughts raced, as they had been since they were imprisoned. "What if Denethor is right?" he began slowly. "He said that he isn't that powerful a sorcerer. And I _am_ Emrys… I might still be able to take his spell off of Arthur." Hope began building in is voice, barely there, but existent.

There was a shuffling sound from where Arthur sat, and Leon spoke up. "Merlin, keep speaking. I think the king is trying to find you." Merlin did, not saying much, just keeping his voice going as a way for Arthur to find him. Soon the king was next to him, a hand on Merlin's shoulder. Merlin read what he wanted to say through the pressure on his shoulder; it was too dangerous to try. It might take the rest of his magic, even kill him. Arthur did not want that to happen. Merlin reached up and gripped Arthur's hand, for an instant unable to speak himself. The love and gratitude he felt for Arthur, his brother, was overwhelming. He nodded. "I understand," he whispered to Arthur, "but we need your help in this. If there was another way, I'd take it, but I don't see one. I have to try."

-Arthur—

"If there was another way, I'd take it, but I don't see one."

_Merlin, why don't you listen to me?_ Arthur wanted to scream. He had literally just said that he understood what Arthur was trying to convey. _I don't WANT you to try, you dollop head! Not if it kills you! I…_ He knew his mouth was moving, that he was mouthing these words, but Merlin could not see him. _If only you could! But then we wouldn't be in this situation anyway; Merlin would not have had to try to light this place up and he would not have drained himself that way… Whatever way that happened to be,_ his practical side argued. He sighed inaudibly; even that ability had been stripped him.

"I have to try," Merlin said. Arthur shook his friend's shoulder, trying to stop him. To make him listen, for once in his life, to what Arthur wanted for him. Merlin inhaled deeply, and Arthur recognized it for what it was; Merlin was about to use his magic. Arthur could do nothing but kneel there, helpless, as powerful, ancient words rolled off the warlock's tongue. In front of him, he saw Merlin's eyes turn gold. _But that's not the right color! _Arthur realized. _It's too brown!_ Mud seemed to swirl and dance within the gold river, something dark staining the purity of Merlin's magic. Arthur grew frantic. He had only seen his ex-servant perform magic openly a couple of times, but he felt- he _knew-_ that this was not right. This was not supposed to happen. Still the gold fought the mud, both locked in an epic duel for supremacy. Suddenly all light vanished from his eyes as Merlin's eyelids concealed them. He slumped in Arthur's grip, falling backwards.

"Merlin!" Arthur called, surprise that his voice had returned smothered by concern for his friend slamming itself repeatedly against his ribcage. He dared not release Merlin's shoulder for a second, fear that he may lose him in the dark clawing at his heart. _Please don't be dead. Please. Not after all that we've done, all we've been through together, all the numerous times you've saved me from certain death… please don't die because you wanted to fix a trivial problem!_ "Please, Merlin," Arthur pleaded, his voice low.

"Did it work?" Merlin asked groggily after a moment of tense agony.

Arthur let loose a bark of laughter. "Yes, Merlin, you idiot," he replied.

"I never thought it would ever be nice to hear you insult me…" Merlin muttered as he sat back up.

"Not to be the bearer of bad news," Gwaine piped up after they were all convinced Merlin was alright for the time being, "but we still have the problem of getting out of here. And we still don't have a plan."

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Another cliffie! I'm sorry! *hides* They just... work for me. I do feel bad about that. I'll try to get another chapter up soon and move the story along. This one was slow, and I know that, but it was necessary (in my opinion, anyway). But as always, please review! I REALLY want to know what you think! Pleeeeease?

~Mirnava


	6. Secrets Unfolding

Why did it take me SOOOOO LOOOONG to update you ask? That is a very good question. One with a million answers, by the way; my muse left, I had no time to write, you take your pick. And so I must, once again, beg your humble forgiveness for my extreme tardiness. And for the fact that this chapter in no way makes up for said absence, as it is short. But now I make you an (rather empty) promise; I do know where I'm going with the next chapter, and I should be able to write it rather quickly. Empty promise I say because we all know by now just how fast my muse leaves me. But I will try. Okay, enough of this boring, repetitive, redundant, apologetic A/N. Here's the next chapter for you all! I hope you like building angst... MWAHAHA.

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"Merlin, are you _sure_ you're alright?" Arthur asked for what seemed like the thousandth time. Merlin rolled his eyes.

"Yes, Arthur. I'm fine." _Except for this blasted headache and more of my magic being gone… And he said that my eyes were brown _and_ gold? What can that mean…?_

Arthur seemed to finally accept that Merlin was okay, and moved on to other pressing matters. Namely, escape. The only problem was that they had already had this conversation multiple times. There was no way anyone was going to allow Merlin to bust down the door with magic for fear of him passing out again or worse. The knights had all tried kicking it, ramming it with their shoulders, by one or two or three, but nothing worked. They only succeeded in tiring themselves. _All except Gwaine… he just HAD to miss the door, didn't he?_ Gwaine was lucky, though; he had only bruised his shoulder against the stone wall. Still, that thought was enough to momentarily bring a minute smile to Merlin's face.

The door behind them abruptly opened, revealing Denethor in the hallway once again. Gwaine did not hold his tongue this time. "What _is_ it with you?" he demanded. "What is this, the fourth time you've come in here to say absolutely _no_thing before _sweeping_ back out, not accomplishing anything?"

"The third time, actually. And don't be so quick to assume that it will be like that every time. Like this time, for example. This time I have not come 'to say absolutely nothing'," Denethor replied mockingly, "no, this time, I require company. Merlin! Why don't you come with me?" It was obviously not a question, though he made it sound as though he had just drawn Merlin's name from a sack.

"I don't think so." His reply was defiant and strong; exactly the opposite of what he was feeling.

"Don't you now?" Denethor seemed to find this humorous. Then his face darkened. "You know, I don't think you have a choice." He began chanting words in the language of magic, strong ancient words, full of power. As his voice grew louder, his hands raised, fingers curved into claws and stretching toward Merlin. Instantly, a tingling sensation exploded across Merlin's body. At first it was soft, almost ignorable, but as Denethor went on, it became stronger, morphing into a thousand fiery pinpricks running up and down his skin. He grit his teeth to keep from uttering a sound; it was what Denethor wanted, after all. He did not close his eyes, either. Of that he was sure, but his vision went black. Two seconds later, it returned, but he was now in a lit chamber, alone with Denethor. The sorcerer smiled, a malicious, knowing expression that sent involuntary shivers running down Merlin's spine.

Merlin tensed; this was not a favorable situation. He took a step toward Denethor, then realized he could not move. He looked down at himself. His hands and feet were secured to the hard, uneven stone wall by way of three inch wide leather straps. Another, thicker still and wide as his palm was long, encircled his waist. He raised his head, glaring at his captor. His magic ran through his veins, reacting to his anger and making his already stormy eyes menacingly flash gold. Denethor only laughed, unfazed."Oh, come now, Merlin. We both know your magic isn't... up to its full strength. You cannot light a candle right now, letalone do me any harm," he smirked. Merlin could do nothing but smolder silently.

Denethor smirked again, obviously enjoying seeing Merlin so upset. Suddenly his bushy eyebrows drew together as he snarled, simultaneously lashing out and punching Merlin - hard - in the stomach. Merlin doubled over as far as his bonds would allow, his breath suddenly stolen. He slowly, defiantly lifted his head once again, glaring still.

"Who are you? What have I ever done to make you hate me?" he breathed. This only served to anger his captor more.

"You don't remember, do you? You left my wife, my children to die! They DIED! They burned to death - every magic user's most intimate fear, their utmost terror! And YOU of all people should know this!" Denethor, so deeply troubled and emotionally charged, was crying now. Tears ran down unheeded down his hooked nose and his eyes had turned red, making them stand out all the more beneath his thick brows. His hands gestured wildly as he spoke, but now he drew near to Merlin's face, shaking his finger as one would to discipline a mischievous child. His voice was deceptively calm as he continued. "And you, _Emrys_," he sneered, "you hid pathetically behind your 'manservant' disguise, standing there and doing nothing. At first I didn't know you were Emrys, and so I didn't suspect the king's servant, known far and wide to be a bumbling idiot. But oh! That was your plan, wasn't it? To get away with it by having everyone believe you were not CAPABLE!" he screamed into Merlin's face. "But I...I saw through your ruse. It took time and effort, but I finally figured it out." He laughed then, a short, sudden bark of insanity. "And now... Now you will pay."

"I don't know what you're talking about. I don't know who you are. I've never seen you before in my life." It was a risk, Merlin knew, saying this, but he had to know who this man was. Instead of the expected blow, Denethor simply stood there. But he did not seem upset at all. Rather, a sinister grin split his face, and he began changing a long string of words in the language of the Old Religion.

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Yes, as I said, building angst, short chapter. I still want to know what you think! Flame me, compliment me (if you so desire, I won't be upset ;) ), anything. Was this chapter up to par with the others? What do I need to improve on? I want to know, to improve my writing. Please review?

... And I have now resorted to begging... I am so proud... *facepalms*

~Mirnava


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